


One Voice

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe in Miracles?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1778725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always been one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Voice

They call to him.

All the voices of those he’s tortured, killed, betrayed. Their songs twine together, eerie, deafening, and fill the spaces in his chest. They race through him like adrenaline, crescendoing across his heart, licking their way along his ribs as if flames from the inferno.

They are a part of him.

They sing to him as the days become darker, as the sun in his soul begins to fade. They gnash their teeth, dig in their claws. They beg him to stoke them bigger.

Their sound resonates with him, a familiar tune that’s always held some place in his heart but that has been kept dormant until now. And now that they are free?  _Oh how sweet is their taste._

Things begin to fade; color, sounds. Everything tastes of ash and life becomes like a half burned parchment, honed in on all that remains, the rest merely scorch marks at the edges.

Everything blurs together after the initial descent down to Hell. Everything becomes torture and hatred, revenge and anger and it all burns within Dean, unceasing and vibrant like it belongs in his body more than the blood that resides there.

After time, all Dean knows is the Blade and the voices.

But one voice does not sound like the others. It does not sing the same song. While the others vibrato their torture and agony, this one speaks of faith, love, devotion; words Dean’s long forgotten the meaning to.

Sometimes the One Voice is loud, drowning out all the rest, sinking into his bones, burrowing there, clenching it’s warm grasp around his icy heart. Other times it’s merely a flicker, a whisper, a prayer. But Dean never ceases to hear it.

It is that voice that eventually un-hinges Dean. It is the One Voice that calls to him that makes him question, makes him feel. It is that voice that sends flickers of memories through Dean’s brain. His own or that of the One Voice’s he isn’t sure, he stopped being able to tell the difference a long time ago, but the memories are tangible nonetheless. Blue eyes, wide, naive, brave, loyal. Soft hands caressing gently over freckled skin, exorcising evil, healing innocent, molding back together the shattered soul of a man unworthy. Lips murmuring heed, praise, doubt, love, and faith.

In the darkest of hours Dean clings to these memories, explores them when all the other voices have quieted to nothing more than a murmur. He wades through blue eyes locked on green, through personal space and the ever closing gap between a man who loved and one who discovered what it was to truly love. He feels the phantom weight of a touch on his shoulder, searing, grounding, and he hears words that sound familiar to him, like an old song he used to know.

"Cursed or not - I’d rather have you, I need you, I’m not leaving here without  _you. You, you, you._ ”

   

Soon the One Voice is the one voice he understands. Soon it is the one he craves.

And eventually, that One Voice, the one calling him  _home_ , is the One Voice that he answers.


End file.
